


Quid Pro Quo

by romanticalgirl



Series: No Party of Principle [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Political Animals
Genre: Captain America Comes Out, M/M, Panic Attacks, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-21 09:13:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13737729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: TJ does a good deed for (mostly) altruistic reasons. But he's only human and, when you're doing that good deed for Captain America, well. Maybe there's a little attraction involved too. But TJ has some demons from his past and Steve brings the potential for more of those demons with him.





	Quid Pro Quo

TJ hears the chatter in the hall, and he knows something’s going on. Probably the press has found out he’s here and he’s going to have to listen to his parents give some bullshit statement, lying about the fact that their addict son has fucked up yet again. He sits up and swings his legs over the side of the bed just as his door opens. A man roughly the size of a house comes in and closes the door behind him, leaning on it as he lets out a deep breath.

TJ raises an eyebrow and tilts his head. “I think you might have the wrong room, because I’d sure as hell remember if I’d met you before.”

“Oh, fuck.” He says it softly, but loud enough that TJ can hear. The guy immediately blushes and thumps his head back against the wall. “Sorry. Sorry. I ducked into the first room I ran across. I’m sorry.” He glances out the window in the door and then drops down into a crouch. 

“Are you running from the law?”

“Worse.” He sighs and rubs his face with his hands. “Press.”

“Ah. I understand that. Come in. Have a seat.” TJ pats the side of his bed. “Trust me, anyone running from the press is welcome here. Consider me your sanctuary.” The guy straightens and walks over, still cutting wary glances toward the door. “How’d you get past the Secret Service?”

“The guys in the suits? They just sort of saluted me and let me in?” He sits down in the chair, air whooshing out of the cushion. “Why do you have Secret Service outside your door?”

“I’m TJ Hammond.” The guy looks at him blankly, and TJ actually laughs. They pumped his stomach, so it hurts, but it also feels better than pretty much anything. Even the cocaine. Maybe. “The President’s son.”

“Oh. Oh. Wow.” He sits a little straighter and the sense of familiarity finally clicks into place. 

“Oh, shit. You’re Captain America.” TJ laughs again. Captain Fucking America. Amazing. His day has actually gotten _better_. “What are you doing here? Is this some sort of press event?”

“No. I mean, I was in the pediatrics unit. It’s on my Stark-approved list of things I can do on my own because he thinks I’m an imbecile mostly. And I thought I was in the clear, but then a bunch of cameras showed up and started upsetting the kids. Just because they want to meet me doesn’t mean they want their images shown all over the world. So I bolted.”

“You ran. The man Hitler and Schmidt feared more than anything ran from a bunch of reporters.”

“Reporters are the _worst_.” He rakes his hands through his hair. “I don’t do things because I want to be in the papers or on TV. Some of those kids have siblings, and I took a list to the store… well, to JARVIS, and he got all the things these kids wanted to give their brothers and sisters for Christmas. They feel bad that they get all the attention, because they’d rather just be normal kids, but they wanted to give something to make the other kids feel special. And I’m supposed to come for the Christmas party, but now that’s off the table.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want it to be a media circus. I didn’t tell _anyone_ I was coming, which means someone saw me and tipped them off. One post to Instagram and I’m ten minutes from a mob of reporters.” He straightens and shakes his head. “You probably know all that. I mean, because of who you are. It’s probably worse for you.” 

TJ taps his fingers against his thigh. “Steve. Can I call you Steve?”

“Yeah. Of course.”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“Yeah. I mean, if you want to.”

“I’m gonna do something for you. When’s your Christmas party?”

“Next Friday.”

“Okay, we’re going to make a deal. I’ll make sure you get your Christmas party uninterrupted and completely press-free.”

“Why?”

“Why?” TJ slumps a little. “Right. Why would a spoiled little rich kid do something nice.”

“No. I mean, why would you do that for me? You don’t even know me.”

“Because when I was a kid, before I got outed and everything went to shit, booze, and drugs, I got to go to one of those events with my dad. He glad-handed everyone and even though it was supposed to be for the kids, it wasn’t. They were props. So I made my Gran take me back two days later and gave presents to all those kids. And I watched them. They didn’t have anything except a bunch of whatever was the latest toy that the taxpayers’ money bought for them, but they were so damn happy. It was the first time I used who I was to do something good.” He sighs deeply. “I haven’t done anything good in a while. Might be nice to try again.”

“And what do you want from me?” Steve’s not smiling, and TJ kind of hates the emotion that he sees in Steve’s eyes. “We had quid pro quo back in the forties. Nobody does something for nothing.”

“You do, don’t you?” He watches Steve’s eyes narrow. He holds up a hand so he can keep talking. “So let me try following your example. Come back for your party. Let me do the rest.”

**

He makes one of the Secret Service detail stand outside the pediatrics ward during Steve’s party. They draw straws for the duty, and Ben has a shit-eating grin on his face when he draws the short straw. The rest of the guys flip him off, but Ben ignores them and heads for the peds unit. 

The rest of them wait for TJ to get into the waiting wheelchair. The nurse wheels him out the door to where his mother and father are waiting. Well, not waiting so much as giving a speech about how they’re so glad TJ is recovered and that they appreciate all the love and support of the American people, and how they’re just so relieved they get to take him home. TJ smiles for the camera, because that’s what he does, but this time, it’s a genuine smile, because there’s nothing he loves more than getting away with something.

When they finally get home, all the civility of the impromptu press conference has melted away into guilt on his parents’ faces, as though they’re the ones who caused this all to happen. He wants to blame them. It’d be easy, but he knows an addict is who and what he is, and that’s no one’s fault but his own.

He goes up to his room like a scolded child even though his mom doesn’t say anything and his dad just goes for a bottle of something expensive. He grabs a stress ball from one of his bookshelves and then lies on the bed, tossing it up in the air and catching it. The knock catches him off guard and the ball hits him on the forehead. “Fuck. What? Come in.”

Ben sticks his head in the door. “You said you wanted me to report in when I got back.”

“Yeah. Yes.” TJ sits up. “What happened? Did it go off okay? No press?”

“No press. Just a lot of happy kids, and a really happy Captain America.” He pulls an envelope out of his jacket pocket. “He asked me to give you this.”

TJ opens it. The handwriting is meticulous, and TJ thinks about all the rumors of nuns and rulers. It just says “thank you” and is signed with an S and a tiny shield drawn in gray, red, and blue. He grins down at it then looks up at Ben. “Hand it over.”

Ben rolls his eyes and hands TJ his phone. There’s a picture of Steve in his Captain America uniform surrounded by a horde of kids, and then one of him flat on the ground with three little kids standing on him, parents and older kids holding their arms up in victory. The next one is Steve standing, his cowl off and his hair a mess, and a smile that makes TJ’s chest tighten. The last one is Steve off in the corner, the smile on his face not quite happy. Melancholy maybe. TJ wonders what Steve wants. What he wanted all those years ago. Wonders what he thinks he can have now. 

“Do me a favor?”

“Sure.” 

“Send those to me. And ask my mom to come up here?”

**

TJ’s doing a shitty job of standing still. He keeps bouncing on the balls of his feet, and Doug and Ann are giving him sidelong looks. He takes a drink of his soda -- too sweet without the cutting burn of alcohol -- and keeps glancing at the door. His dad comes up behind him and puts a hand on TJ’s shoulder. “You look like a preacher in a whorehouse, kid.”

“As if I’d know anything about either of those.” TJ takes another drink and wonders if his dad’s going to take it from him and smell it. “Though I did fuck a priest once, now that I think about it.”

“TJ. Don’t… Don’t tell me those things.” His dad sighs and takes a swallow of his own drink. TJ can smell the whiskey and he has to let out a shuddering breath. Official functions are one temptation after another for an addict. Booze leads to other things far too easily. “I didn’t know you were such a fan of superheros.”

“What?” He snaps his eyes to his dad then sighs. “Mom told you.”

“She asked me if I knew why you put in a special request for Captain America, yes.”

“One of Mom’s causes is mental health care for veterans. People look up to Captain America. He’s the face of the military. Has been for a long time. Just seemed to make sense.”

“And since when did you start caring so much about your mother’s causes?” His dad shakes his head. “The White House Christmas party isn’t the place for this, TJ. Captain America isn’t some new toy for you to go after and destroy yourself for. Just because your married man had no morals doesn’t mean that Steve Rogers doesn’t.”

He stands there, stung, as his father walks away. His soda shakes in his hand and he sets it down. The sudden and familiar feel of being under a microscope washes over him, and he wonders, not for the first time, why the hell his parents couldn’t just let him die. They wouldn’t be blamed for their gay, addict son killing himself. After one actual attempt, one accidental overdose, and the latest hospital stay -- which wasn’t actually his fault -- the public probably expects it. 

A gasp goes up from the crowd which, given the ranking of all the people in the crowd, says something. TJ looks up to see Steve, his blond hair shining and looking like sex in his tuxedo, shaking TJ’s mother’s hand. He shakes Bud’s and then he kisses TJ’s nana’s. He leans in and says something to her and she points in TJ’s direction. Steve looks over at him and smiles, lifting his hand in a wave. TJ raises his in response without thinking, and Steve’s smile widens. He says something to TJ’s parents and walks over to him, nodding and smiling at people, shaking hands, but not stopping, not letting himself get detoured.

“Hi.”

TJ feels like parts of him are being thawed in the brightness of Steve’s expression. “Hi.”

“I assume I have you to thank for the invite?”

“I know you don’t like this kind of thing. But… Well, I thought you might support a cause or two. Not shilling for my mom, by the way. Just…”

“I’m happy to be here.” He smiles even more, and TJ’s worried he might break Captain America. “Thank you again. For what you did. You made so many kids happy.”

“And you?”

“I think I made them happy.”

“No.” TJ can feel a blush rising on his face, and he can’t remember the last time that happened. “Did it make you happy.”

“Yeah.” Steve’s smile melts into something else, something that makes TJ swallow hard. “You made me happy.”

“Good. Good. I’m glad. Glad it was a success.”

“Captain Rogers!” 

Steve tilts his head back toward the party. “I should go make the rounds, I suppose. Glad-handing comes with the job.”

“Glad-handing always sounded like a euphemism for masturbation.”

Steve chokes out a laugh as TJ clamps his mouth shut, realizing what he just said. “I think it’s more like a handjob, actually.”

“Oh my god.” TJ snorts. “Go away. You’re awful.”

“You started it.” Steve’s beaming, obviously proud of himself, and TJ shakes his head, turning Steve and shoving him away. “You’re going to think about it every time you shake someone’s hand.”

“I’m going to think about it every time _you_ shake someone’s hand.”

Steve turns his head and winks. “Get ready to think about a lot of hand jobs then.”

**

TJ does not think about Steve Rogers and handjobs. He doesn’t watch him walk around the party, shaking hands with people and occasionally smirking in TJ’s direction. He absolutely does not disappear into the bathroom and jerk off, pretending his security detail isn’t outside. He wants to because he’s failing at the first two, but he likes to think he has more self-restraint than that. 

Of course then Steve starts shaking hands with people again as they leave, and the crowd is thinning. ITJ can see the staff waiting to start cleaning the room. He wonders, not for the first time, how people who see themselves as more civilized than most can make such a mess. 

He wanders over to the piano and opens it, sitting down and running his fingers lightly across the keys. A few people stop to listen and he plays quietly, something of his own that he’s been working on. He knows it’s pointless. TJ is going to amount to exactly as much as his parents expect, which isn’t much. He finishes the song and people clap. TJ looks up and manages something like a smile in thanks. 

“That was beautiful.”

TJ looks up and Steve’s leaning on the piano. “It was…”

“I know that look. Don’t insult yourself.” He puts on a stern look and points. “Don’t disappoint Captain America, young man.”

“Captain America had me thinking about handjobs all night. Which would have been fine, except I also had to think about the people whose hands he was shaking getting handjobs, which was less than ideal.”

“Sorry.” Steve nods at the bench. “May I?” TJ scoots over and Steve sits down. “Teach me to play something.”

“Okay.” He tells Steve where to put his hands and slowly begins to play. Steve watches him closely, following along just a second behind. He knows Steve’s supposed to have an eidetic memory, so he’s not surprised when he plays it again in time with TJ. Smiling, TJ continues the song, hands moving faster. Steve huffs a breath and TJ laughs. “Ooh. Someone doesn’t like not knowing things.”

“Trust me, there are a _lot_ of things I don’t know these days.” Steve starts the piece over and TJ reaches between his hands, playing a counter melody. The hint of a frown that Steve had been wearing disappears as they play together, the same small segment of the song over and over. 

TJ stops and Steve follows suit, moving one hand over to rest on TJ’s. TJ shivers slightly as Steve’s fingers stroke the back of TJ’s hand as TJ starts playing again. It’s unnerving and erotic and TJ hasn’t wanted this much since Sean. The thought of Sean and the fallou makes him stop play. The thought that Steve is probably further in the closet than even Sean was makes him pull his hands off the keyboard. “We should go so the staff can clean in here.” He shakes his head. “You. You should go. Goodnight.” 

He can feel Steve’s eyes on him, watching as TJ effectively flees the room. He makes it to his bedroom before the panic attack truly starts, huddling in the corner of his closet in the dark, trying to remember how to breathe.

**

“Stark parties have more booze than our parties,” TJ reminds his mother. “This is a bad idea.”

“You’ll be fine.”

“I’m an addict, mother. I won’t be fine. I will be paranoid and antsy and dying for a drink and coke. And not the kind you mix booze with.” He rubs his thumb along the seam of his slacks. “I would be fine at home.”

“Which is where you used to spend a large portion of your time getting drunk and high. At least in public there’s a chance you’ll actually care that you’re being watched and behave.”

“You know, the support I get from you and dad is overwhelming. Really.” He keeps rubbing the seam, the pad of his thumb getting warm from the friction. “I don’t see why I have to go.”

“Because your father and your brother are busy, and I needed an escort. Now, behave.” They pull up to Stark Tower and his mother’s helped out of the car. He follows and holds his arm out for her, keeping his gaze averted from the cameras, flashbulbs, and red lights of the TV cameras. There’s a cover from the road to the doorway, so they’re free of the falling snow, even if the people yelling questions at them aren’t. His mom waves and makes nice, refusing to answer anythings as she tells them all she’s delighted to be at Tony’s party, thrilled to be out with her handsome son.

They both breathe a sigh of relief once they’re in the elevator, each standing on opposite sides. They reach the floor faster than TJ wants and he lets his mother take his arm again as they walk out. Pepper Potts greets them, and TJ forces himself to smile and be polite, even though instinct makes him want to look around for Steve. Fortunately, Pepper has the innate ability to put people at ease, and she engages TJ in the conversation, stealing him from his mother and walking with him around the party. 

“Let me guess, dealing with Tony Stark has made you an expert in distracting recovering addicts.”

“Something like that. Or perhaps I just feel like being seen with a very attractive man on my arm.”

“A man who most definitely will not hit on you?” He smirks. “I’ve had my share of women in the past, Ms. Potts.”

“Of that I have no doubt, Mr. Hammond.” She leads him to a table, getting a glass of punch for both of them before heading to a small table nearby. “He’s not here.”

“What?”

“Steve. He’s not here.” She takes a sip and nods toward his glass. “It’s non-alcoholic.”

“Why would I care if he was here?”

“I don’t know that you would, but you keep looking around the room, and I know he went to the Christmas party, and I know he came home…” She shakes her head. “Anyway, whether you care or not, he’s not here. So enjoy the party, and make sure I get a kiss around midnight.”

TJ sits there after she leaves, watching people meet and greet each other. He eventually gets up, takes another glass of punch, and heads for the balcony. There are several people outside despite the snow, and TJ can only guess it’s some sort of forcefield that keeps both the snow out and the heat in. 

A sleek movement above him pulls his gaze up and he can see a black shadow in the sky settle on the roof. He turns toward the party and walks back in just in time to see Tony Stark dart out of the room. Pepper doesn’t look worried, but she also doesn’t look as easy and relaxed as she had been. TJ moves deeper into the party, stopping at Pepper’s side. “Everything okay?”

“I’m not sure.” She frowns at the elevator that Tony had taken. “I should go and see.”

“No. You have guests. Just tell me where to go. I’ll find out for you.” 

She looks at the elevator a little longer, then at TJ. “Tell JARVIS to take you where Tony is.”

“Jarvis?”

“Just trust me. Go into the elevator and tell it to take you to Tony.”

TJ nods, even though he has no idea what she’s talking about, and gets on the elevator. “Uh. Jarvis?”

“Yes, Mr. Hammond?”

He jumps, pressing his hand to his chest. “Jesus.”

“You wish to be taken to Mr. Stark, is that correct?”

“Uh. Yes. Please.” The elevator starts moving, even though he can’t feel it. He’s not sure how far they’re going up in the tower, but when he steps out of the elevator, the wind is whipping across the wet, black tarmac. There’s a short stairway and he jogs up it, snow landing in his hair and on his suit. Tony’s yelling at someone as a team of people who look like medics, gurney and all, come rushing out toward the black jet Tony’s standing next to.

TJ recognizes Black Widow when she climbs out, and Thor’s pretty unmistakable. As is the body in Thor’s arms. Thor lays the body on the gurney, and in the tarmac lights TJ sees the shining white on Steve’s uniform. TJ’s running toward him before he even knows what he’s doing, only to be stopped by a knife at his throat.

“Who are you and why are you here?”

TJ swallows, feeling the knife press against his Adam’s apple. “Uh. The… The President’s son?”

“Are you asking or telling?” The knife doesn’t move, but Black Widow does, stepping closer and crowding him.

“Tell… Telling. TJ Hammond.”

“Ah. You. You’re not needed here. Go back to your party.” The knife disappears as quickly as it appeared. “He’s fine. Go with Tony.” She turns on her heel and walks off to where Steve’s disappeared into the bright light of the elevator. Stark’s suddenly there, grabbing TJ by the arm. 

“Come on. Downstairs.”

“What‘s going on? Is he all right?”

“He’s fine. Just needs a little R&R.” He ushers TJ down the stairs and into the elevator. “You don’t say a word about this, kid. Understand?”

“Yeah. Of course. Can… What’s wrong with him?”

“JARVIS. Party.”

“Of course, Sir.”

The elevator moves smoothly, streaking down however many floors. The doors open and Pepper is right there, wrapping her arm around Tony’s. “What’s going on?”

“Rogers. He’s fine.”

It’s clear she doesn’t believe him, but she doesn’t argue. “You need to change your jacket.”

“There’s enough hot air in here. I’ll dry off before you know it.” He kisses her cheek. “Let’s mingle.” He looks at TJ, eyes sweeping over him. TJ’s intimately familiar with the look of disappointment. “You too, kid.”

TJ walks in the opposite direction until Tony and Pepper are out of sight, swallowed by the crowd. As soon as he can, he detours back to the elevator and slips inside. “Jarvis? Take me to Captain Rogers.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Mr. Hammond.”

“Please?”

“The Captain is currently incapacitated, and you can do nothing to help. I will be sure to convey to him that you asked to see him.”

“He’s going to be okay, right?”

“The Captain is receiving the best care. You should return to the party.”

TJ sighs and steps out of the elevator. He keeps an eye on Stark, determined to follow if he leaves the party, but nothing happens. Instead TJ keeps getting drawn into pointless conversations, as if he knows anything about his mother’s talks with China. It’s nearing midnight when he runs into Pepper at the punch table. 

“He’s fine.” 

“What?” TJ looks up sharply.

“Steve. He’s fine. Resting.”

“You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?”

“No. Though I have to say I’m surprised at your concern. Steve gave us the impression that things hadn’t gone well at the Christmas party.”

“What do you mean, hadn’t gone well?”

“He said that the evening ended on a sour note, and he doubted very much the two of you would move in the same circles again. It’s something of a pity. He doesn’t have many friends.”

“He talked to you. About me?” His brow furrows. “I’m missing something here, aren’t I?”

“You’re missing quite a bit.” The lights flash and Pepper leans in, kissing his cheek. “Almost midnight. I’d better find Tony.”

**

He finds the most ridiculous card he can at the store, ignoring the smirks on the faces of every person on his detail. He tries to quell them with a glare, but instead they actually smile. “I hate every single one of you.”

“Mm-hmm.” Ben nods at Sarah. “He hates us a lot.”

“Definitely. You know, TJ, there’s one over there with Captain America on it. You could just pick that one.”

“No, Sarah. That’s a birthday card. It’s not the fourth of July yet. He’s got some time.”

TJ flips them off. “I didn’t ask any of you for your opinion.”

“Not that he’d listen to us even if he did.”

“Can I fire you? I think I should be able to fire you.” He thrusts the card at Sarah. “Fine. Opinion.”

She reads it and bites back a smile. “Excellent choice. I think you should include chocolates. I bet he likes chocolates.”

“Tony Stark can afford chocolates.” He grabs the envelope and heads toward the cashier. He’s pretty sure the folks at the store are snapping pictures on their phones, ready to tell all the tabloids about TJ Hammond’s midnight shopping trip. The clerk that his detail has isolated looks like he’s about to pee his pants. TJ smiles, trying to put him at ease. “Hi.”

“Hi. Your...Um… Highness?”

“No. Just TJ. Can you break a fifty?”

“Yes. Yes, sir.” He nods like a bobblehead.

“Great. So if you could just ring this up.”

He does, only having to restart three times. Another clerk comes up to bag the card for him; this one’s not nervous. He’s got eyes like a predator as he rakes them up and down TJ. He knows he looks good in his suit, but he doesn’t even acknowledge the look. He takes his change, smiles at them both, and strides out of the store. 

“You know…”

“No. Don’t.” TJ shakes his head as he gets in the car. Jeff, the head of his detail, shuts his mouth immediately. “I do know. I’m very, very aware that if hinging my future on a married Republican was stupid, even entertaining the idea of doing _anything_ with Captain America, if he even wanted to, would be whatever is beyond stupid. Suicidal.” No one winces, not even TJ. “Probably successful this time.”

“You’d really put us all out of a job like that, Sir?” 

“Come on, Sarah. Of course I would. I’m incredibly selfish.”

“Is that what that was at the hospital? Right. Selfishness.”

He sticks his tongue out at her and closes his eyes, leaning back against the seat. “How angry is my mom, do you think?”

“You stranded her at a New Year’s Eve party. She’s pissed.”

“Great. Well, you know what they say about New Year’s. Begin as you mean to go on.”

**

He’s been back in his apartment for a month and he knows his mother has someone coming in once a week while TJ’s at his farce of a job on his mother’s staff to root around and look for drugs and alcohol. But he’ll take the sacrifice if it means not being in the White House. Every little bit of freedom feels something like recovery, but he’s not fooled by it.

He frowns at the knock on the door. He’s tempted not to answer it when he doesn’t see anything through the peephole. But he knows no one would have gotten this far if they hadn’t been cleared because, even if his detail isn’t around, he knows his father has people watching to shake down anyone who might be a dealer. He opens the door and finds himself staring at six feet of superhero. TJ swallows hard. 

“I got your card.” Steve leans against the door jamb, legs crossed at the ankles and hands in his pockets. “I’ve never actually gotten a get-well card before.”

“I… Um. Do you want to come in?” By anyone’s standards, TJ’s apartment isn’t much. Mostly a piano, a kitchen, a bed, and a nightstand that has a lamp and a book on top of it, and an embarrassing supply of lube and condoms inside it.

“Sure. Thanks.” Steve straightens and walks inside. The room instantly feels twice as small, and TJ’s a little concerned about the oxygen supply, especially given how short his breath has become. For the first time he realizes how _huge_ Steve is. Even though they’re the same height, Steve seems to take up more space than his sheer mass. He walks past TJ to the piano and runs his fingers lightly over the wood before sitting on the bench. “Tony hasn’t stopped giving me shit, by the way. For the card.”

“Shit. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Steve smiles. “I get fan mail, which I don’t understand at all, but this is honestly the first thing I’ve gotten addressed to Steve Rogers in… a really long time.”

“You are feeling better though, right? They wouldn’t let me see you. Jarvis. Whoever that is. He wouldn’t let me see you.”

“Sorry about that. There’s protocol.” He rubs his hands on his thighs. “I wasn’t sure I should come. I got the feeling I did something wrong the last time I saw you. Upset you.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” TJ crosses his arms over his chest then drops them in front of his waist so he doesn’t look as defensive. “That was all me.”

“Did I cross a line?”

“No. Really. It was fine. Me. Overreacting. It’s what I do. Unstable. Erratic. You should read my psych profile. Hell, throw in the overdose and the two suicide attempts, and it’s a wonder they let me out in public.” He needs to stop talking, but apparently he’s intent on sabotaging even being friends with Steve. “So, really. Nothing to apologize for.”

“Then I don’t get it.” Steve stands up and crosses over to TJ. He stops in front of him and tilts his head slightly. “Did I read it wrong?”

“Read what wrong?”

Steve reaches up and brushes his thumb over the line of TJ’s cheekbone. “This.” He slides his fingers down to TJ’s throat where his pulse is beating rapidly. “This.”

TJ brushes Steve’s hand away and backs up quickly. “I’ve done the straight in public thing. The only one who gets screwed in that is me, and not in the pleasant way. So thanks but no thanks.”

“Okay.” Steve nods and steps back, his hands going back into his pockets. “I apologize. Apparently I did do something wrong.” TJ can see Steve’s hands ball into fists in his pockets and he forces himself to look up, not to think about Steve’s hands. His eyes _hurt_ , because they’re the kind of sad that TJ’s only ever seen in the eyes of older people. Liquid regret and lingering ghosts. “It was nice meeting you, TJ. Thanks for the help. With the kids. I appreciate it more than I can say.”

He takes another step back and turns, just a few feet from the door. TJ exhales shakily. “Steve.” He doesn’t turn, but he doesn’t keep walking either. “The last relationship I had was with a married man. I was his dirty secret. I loved him, and being told that, realizing that, broke me. He told me I was… I can’t do that again.” 

“I wouldn’t ask you to.”

“You don’t have to ask. You’re Captain America. It comes with the territory.”

“Oh.”

“Oh what?”

“You’re one of them then. The ones that believe the only thing I care about is what all the old white men in Washington care about. Wealth and control and oppression. You think that my America is the one the religious right’s decided on. That I’m… What? Their propaganda. Their Aryan posterboy. Hitler’s wet dream, even though they’d never say they wanted to be like him. You think that’s who I am.”

“I didn’t…”

“Yeah. You did.” It’s Steve’s turn to exhale. “It was nice meeting you, TJ.”

TJ watches him go, not sure what he can say to make him stop. Not sure if there is anything. 

Shit.

**

The entire Avengers contingent is at the White House for some award or something. TJ’s not sure on the details. He just knows he was given a suit and told when to show up and, like the good little boy he is these days, he does as he’s told. He’s guided into a receiving line behind Doug and Ann and, even though he gets yelled at for ruining the line of his suit, he puts his hands in his pockets.

“Why are we in line?”

Ann’s eyes are wide and bright. “I’ve always wanted to meet Thor.”

Doug squeezes her shoulders and then the door opens. They’re all dressed casually, though Steve has his shield with him. He’s not sure if what Thor’s wearing would be classified as casual, but at least he’s not in full fighting regalia. Stark’s in the lead, and he stops to talk to TJ’s parents. 

They move down the line -- Stark, then Hawkeye, Falcon and Black Widow, Thor and Banner, Rhodes and Lang, Maximoff and Vision. And Steve. TJ manages to say a few words to all of them, though their lack of response is telling especially after seeing them talking to Doug and Ann. Of course, neither Doug nor Ann had pissed off Captain America.

Everyone starts moving into the main ballroom before Steve gets to TJ, but it just means they’re at the end of the line heading in. Steve is only a few feet away, but it feels like several miles. “Your team doesn’t like me much.”

“I wouldn’t know. None of them have discussed you with me.” His whole body is stiff, tight with tension.

TJ follows Steve up the stairs to the dais, settling next to Doug and Ann on the opposite side of the stage from the Avengers. His mom makes a speech and then Stark gets up. TJ’s not listening, just applauding when everyone else does. Steve has his shield on the floor and leaning up against his leg. 

TJ tries not to watch him, but he can’t seem to look away. He doesn’t realize that the ceremony is over until Doug grabs his arm to pull him to his feet. The crowd mills around as the Avengers move down onto the floor. The doors to the outside are opened, tables draped in white set up on the lawn, servers already moving around with champagne.

“You’re TJ, right?” There’s a large hand on his shoulder and TJ looks to his side to see Falcon standing there. “We should talk.”

“Yes. We should.” Natasha smiles at his other side, and TJ feels a chill run through him. “Where is somewhere private?”

“I have a twenty-four hour guard. There’s no such thing as private.”

Natasha gives him a flat, unimpressed look. “Improvise.”

They leave the ballroom and pass into a hallway. TJ waves off his detail and stops as soon as the doors close behind the three of them. “Okay. This is about as private as it gets without violating national security or something.”

“What did you say to him?”

“What?”

“To Rogers” Sam’s voice isn’t nearly as pleasant as it had sounded when he was talking to Doug. “What did you say to him?”

“Nothing. I haven’t seen him in over three months.”

“Yes. We’re aware of how long it’s been. You said something to him, and we need to know what it is, because team leaders who seem bent on suicide missions are less than effective at rallying the troops.”

“I didn‘t say anything. I promise.”

“So you didn’t say anything that might imply you think he’s a homophobic jerk?”

“Uh...no?” TJ shakes his head. “All I did was tell him I wasn’t interested in being someone’s dirty little secret. The truth hidden by whatever lie he might be living.”

Natasha says something in Russian under her breath. “Men.”

“Hey!” Samn holds up both hands and shakes his head. “Not all men.” 

She snorts. “ _All_ men.” She closes the distance between herself and TJ. “What lie is he living?”

“What?”

“This lie you think he’s living. What is it?”

“I…”

“Let me guess, that he’s the great Captain America, the bastion of all virtue and puritanical beliefs? You’re right. That is a lie. But he’s not the one living it. It’s all of you who keep forcing it on him.”

“Natasha. Sam.” TJ glances up at Steve’s voice, and he’d thought he had Steve’s image burned into his brain, but there are details he didn’t remember, that he can’t believe he forgot. “That’s enough. Leave him alone. Go back to the party.”

They both give Steve long, significant looks, but his gaze seems focused on TJ. Once the door shuts behind them, Steve moves closer, stopping a few paces in front of TJ. 

“Sorry about that. They’re a little overprotective. They forget I’m almost a hundred years old.” He looks TJ over. “You’re okay? They didn’t hurt you or anything?”

“No. And it’s fine. I only peed my pants a little.”

Steve huffs a laugh, shaking his head all the while. “They’re my team. They worry. Hell, Tony’s threatening to hire out a strip joint, because I apparently need to get laid more than any other human being he’s ever met.”

“Well, you were frozen in ice for a really long time. He’s probably not wrong.” TJ shoves his hands into his pockets, ignoring the itch that tingles in his fingers, the desire to touch Steve. 

“How do people do this subtle shit?” Steve mutters and steps into TJ’s space, his palm on TJ’s cheek, his fingers in his hair. With a soft tug, he pulls TJ in closer. He waits several breaths, watching TJ before he fits his mouth over TJ’s like it’s made for it, matching puzzle pieces fitting together. 

TJ’s lips part on a breath and Steve takes advantage, sliding his tongue inside over TJ’s. Steve’s body shudders as they touch, as he presses closer. TJ’s back hits the wall and Steve’s thigh slides between his legs. 

Wait. “We can’t. I can’t.” TJ pushes Steve away, but it’s half-hearted at best. “The last time almost… I can’t.” 

Steve exhales and steps back. He’s visibly hard, and he’s breathing heavily. “I’m not him.”

“No.” TJ reaches for something to say, but nothing comes to mind. So he does what he does best. He lashes out. “But he’s who I actually want.” 

Steve’s face stills, all the open expression that had been there gone in an instant. “I seem to keep having to apologize to you.” His jaw is tight and his erection’s gone. TJ Immediately wants to say something, fix it, apologize, but all the words get stuck in his throat. “Goodbye, TJ. It was… Well, I’m not sure what it was.” 

He turns on his heel and, by the time TJ manages to make his way out of the hallway and into the ballroom, Steve and his shield are both gone.

**

He pretends he doesn’t have google alerts set up for the Avengers, and he wouldn’t admit to the Captain America ones under threat of torture and death. It’s mostly just news stories ranting against the Avengers or rooting for them. TJ skips over them, clicking through fast enough that he almost misses it.

 _What Else Is Captain America’s Shield Hiding?_ Below it is an article lambasting Steve for pretending to be something he’s not, someone he’s not. Telling him he’s not fit to serve the people of this great United States. TJ tries to think of something he’s read that would be the source of all the vitriol when he sees the picture. Steve sitting at a table with another man. Steve with his arm around another man’s shoulders. A video that TJ doesn’t mean to click on, grainy footage of Steve’s hand on the man’s jaw, tilting his head for a kiss. 

“It’s a disgrace. A betrayal of the American people.” TJ stares at Sean as he talks, his expression indignant. “Captain America should stand for family values. Not encouraging the gay agenda, not letting children -- impressionable children -- think that two men being together is right.”

TJ laughs out loud, the sound sharp and high-pitched to his ears. “You goddamned fucking hypocrite.” As much as Sean declared he didn’t feel anything, only TJ did, TJ knows he’s not so desperate to be loved that he made everything up, that what was between them was all in his mind. He’s dialing before he even thinks about it, glad Doug answers sounding awake and not like TJ interrupted something. “Do you still have the pictures? Of me and Sean?”

“TJ, I’m right in the middle --”

“When was the last time I asked you for something?” They’re both quiet for a moment, because they both know. TJ’s next-to-last disaster. But the club had made Doug’s money back. TJ had that at least. “Do you have them?”

“No. Not… I know where they are. Why?”

“I need them.”

“You don’t need the reminder of him. You can move past him. You know what he did to you.”

“Yeah. I’m pretty aware.”

“They’re safe. No one’s going to get at them. They’re not going to see the light of day.” TJ is quiet for a long moment, and he can practically hear Doug thinking. Can practically see the realization settling over his face “No.”

“It’s my life.”

“His too.”

“He’s spouting family values like he’s some sort of dedicated and devoted husband and father, not like he decided DC was far enough away from home that he could indulge in sticking his dick in some guy like he really wants to. He fucked me, Dougie. He knew who I was and he did it for the thrill and the danger. And probably because he knew I was fucked up enough, desperate enough, that I’d believe every lie he told me.”

“It’s a bad idea. The Republicans will use it against Mom, and…”

“I’ve let him ruin my life enough. Time for me to ruin his. That’s politics, right?”

“You’re not a politician.”

“I’m part of the Hammond dynasty. Politics is in my blood. Not a bad new addiction.”

**

It’s cathartic when the first story breaks. It’s a high he hasn’t experienced in too long. So long. Like a noseful of coke, the numb feel of his gums as he rubs it in. He leans back against his couch and revels in it. Sean’s still in DC, so he’s fielding reporters everywhere he goes. It’s fucking liberating. 

It’s even better when he shows up for a dinner at his mom’s behest and Sean is seated at his table. He settles in the chair next to TJ and leans in. His voice is an angry hiss.. “I’m surprised you showed up.”

“I could say the same for you.” 

“They’re blaming you. Saying you seduced me. Drugged me and seduced me.”

“If they’ve seen the pictures, have they asked how I dressed you up in different outfits? And made you pin me to a wall?” TJ shakes his head. “By the way, how’s the family?”

“You’re a son of a bitch.”

“Yeah. You know, my mother would agree with you on that one.”

Sean drops his voice, not leaning in, not getting too close. “I thought you loved me.”

TJ nods. “I thought I did too.”

“You tried to kill yourself when I left you.”

“Not because you left me. Because you said all the things I believed about myself. That I’d never be good enough, so why even try? Like I told you when I saw you last, I was fine.”

“Until you ODed?”

“Stick an addict in a club with drugs and alcohol, and it’s very likely that he’s going to slip. Nature of the beast.”

“The day you saw me.” Sean sneers. “The day I didn’t show up for your little vanity project. Did I hurt your feelings again?”

“No.”

“You still love me.”

TJ shakes his head. “Like I said, I thought I did. But then, I never really knew you, did I?”

“TJ?”

TJ looks up at his mother and smiles. “Mom. Hey. You remember Senator Reeves.”

“Vaguely. He looks different with his clothes on.” Sean blushes, angry and embarrassed. “You really should learn to stay away from windows, Senator.” Her voice hardens and it’s the President talking. “And away from my son.”

“It’s fine, Mom. Sean was just telling me about his re-election bid this year. I was wishing him the best of luck.”

She settles her hand on TJ’s shoulder. “Come with me. There’s someone I want you to meet.” TJ smiles and excuses himself from the table, falling in step with her. “You took a risk.”

“Calculated. I may be a fuck-up, but I’m not an idiot. Like you said, I pinned my sobriety on him. I needed a clean break, but I needed it to be the one I made.”

“I’m proud of you.”

“Yeah?” He glances at her, wary.

“Yes, honey. I am.” She leads him into the main hall and nods toward the staircase. Steve’s standing there, looking better than any man has a right to. “Captain Rogers wants to speak with you.”

“Mom…”

“TJ. Don’t think I didn’t notice your timing. And I’ve been told by a source close to the Avengers that the Captain has been very difficult to live with over the past several months. I don’t know what happened between the two of you, but you haven’t been a joy these lately yourself.”

“I’ve been sober. Clean.”

“I know. Yet another reason I’m proud of you.” She gives him a little push. “Now go talk to the man.”

TJ keeps walking, not sure he would if it weren’t for her propelling him forward. Steve looks up from his drink when TJ stops in front of him. “Hi.”

Steve nods. “TJ. It’s good to see you again.”

“You too.” He clears his throat. “So, you have a boyfriend.”

“I had a date.” Steve shrugs. “He thought it would be fun to date Captain America until he ended up with paparazzi outside his door and people calling him all the time telling him he was destroying America, and people spitting at him.” He looks over TJ’s shoulder. TJ turns and sees Sean standing there, blatantly staring. “That’s your straight man?”

“Straight man would imply that something in this was a joke.” He sighs. “I probably did a really shitty thing.”

Steve shrugs one shoulder. “So did he.” His eyes drop to TJ’s mouth and TJ licks his lips and swallows hard. Steve immediately looks away.

“You know, I’m used to paparazzi. And I’ve been told I’m destroying the fabric of America a _lot_. For most of my life.”

“I’m not who you want.” Steve says it lightly, but his eyes are serious. TJ wishes he could kick his past self in the ass. He should be used to the feeling by now.

“I might have been panicking a little when I said that.”

“Ah.” Steve closes his eyes for a moment then looks at TJ again. There’s something warmer in them now, but TJ thinks it might be more about hope than actual belief. “And you’ll actually listen to me when I tell you I’m bisexual and not whatever the history books tell you I am?” He tilts his head and raises an eyebrow. “And maybe give me a chance to tell you that I was trapped in the ice for nearly seventy years, and I have no intention of being trapped anywhere else, even the closet?”

“You mean instead of jumping to conclusions?” TJ’s lips quirk up. 

Steve gives him a wry smile. “Yeah. Instead of that.”

“I could probably do that.”

“Are you still in love with him?”

It’s a fair and honest question, especially after all the things TJ’s said. He makes himself think about it, glancing back at Sean. He loves him. He’ll always love him. He was the first person who TJ loved, the first person who made him feel loved in return. “No.”

“Then I’m thinking maybe I might kiss you.”

“I’m thinking I’d be really okay with that.”


End file.
